


Rescue Me

by Lamsfan



Series: Whamilton and Lams Meet-Cutes [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29010381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamsfan/pseuds/Lamsfan
Summary: Alex needs help and John comes to the rescue.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Whamilton and Lams Meet-Cutes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833766
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	Rescue Me

**Author's Note:**

> I needed something to do while waiting for my turn at the dentist. Regardless of precautions, the idea of having someone's hands in my mouth, hands that had been in countless other mouths, made me extremely anxious.

Jack looked around his studio at the half-empty coffee cups and take out containers covering any surface that wasn’t covered with bottles of paint, colored pens and pencils, and drawings in various stages of completion. As he collected the trash, he wondered when he had gone home long enough to do anything but sleep the fewest hours his body would allow and shower so he wouldn’t offend his seatmates on the train. He packed his messenger bag with the sketches and proposals he needed to review for a client over the weekend and turned out the lights.

The fragrance of his favorite Thai restaurant, full of garlic and ginger, greeted him almost as soon as he set foot onto the sidewalk and his rumbling stomach made the decision that he would stop to eat before heading home.

“Hello, Jack,” Shrewsbury, the host, greeted him. “What can I get you? Your usual?”

“Hmm, maybe something different. I need to add some new dishes to the rotation.” He peeped into the small dining room; there was a decent crowd but it was relatively quiet. The sound of glasses clinking and cutlery doing its job complemented the soft music and Jack decided this would help him relax. “And if you have a seat available, I think I’d like to eat in. I need to decompress a bit before I head home. It’s been a long week.”

“Absolutely. Follow me.” He took notice of Jack’s sloped shoulders and tired eyes and led him to a table off to the side where he could enjoy his meal away from the bustle of the dining room. Jack looked up from checking emails on his phone when Shrewsbury returned and placed a glass on the table in front of him." We have a new witbier I think you might enjoy. On the house, of course.” Jack took a sip and tipped his glass towards Shrewsbury in appreciation.

When his food arrived, he set his phone aside to indulge in a little people watching while he ate. The sudden loud voices at the bar caught his attention and Jack noticed a dark haired man stand suddenly, gripping his drink so tightly in front of him, Jack half expected him to throw it into his companion’s face. He seemed to think better of it and simply placed it on the counter along with a few bills to cover his tab and turned to leave. He stepped away in time to avoid the other man’s grabby hands and seemed to search the room for someone to help him. His pleading look landed on Jack and before he could decipher the request, the man had pulled him up from his seat and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“Please pretend you’re my boyfriend,” the man whispered in his ear before kissing him fully on the mouth. Jack restrained himself from responding to the pressure of his soft, warm lips; he was a stranger, after all, engaging in what many would call a sexual assault. After what seemed like an hour but was probably a matter of seconds, the ball of energy pulled back and said more loudly, “You’re back! Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack saw the cause of the desperation in the man’s eyes as the man from the bar closed in on them.

The lie flowed easily. “I was going to surprise you.” He looked up at the inebriated man, who had now stopped at their table and seemed to be reaching out a hand to pull his ‘boyfriend’ from his grasp. Jack circled a protective arm around his waist and asked, “Who’s your friend?”

“Not my friend,” the man answered. “I was trying to have a quiet drink at the bar and he wouldn’t leave me alone. Kept touching my thigh even though I told him he needed to move his hand if he wanted to keep it.”

Jack straightened his stance, still holding the man close. “Buddy, you really should learn to take ‘no’ for an answer. Now I’m not one to settle my issues with my fists, although I’m quite capable, but the next man who thinks you’re trying to take what’s his might not be so generous.”

‘Buddy’ rivaled Jack in height and build and they probably would have been well matched in a street fight. But Jack had the benefit of having just arrived while this maybe-rapist probably had several drinks under his belt and looked much less steady on his feet. He must have come to the same conclusion because he practically spat at Jack, “You should teach your boyfriend not to be such a tease,” before turning and wobbling back to the bar.

“You think I’m yours?” the man teased.

Jack had felt his heartbeat starting to return to normal as one source of the spike in his adrenaline settled back onto his barstool but that statement, and the smile on the man’s face...well, he wasn’t quite sure how to react to that. “Would you rather I had denied knowing you?”

“No…,” he said slowly. “I just expected you to tell him to leave us alone. You kind of laid claim to me and, for a split second, I wondered if I had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

“And you’re sure you haven’t?”

“No, you look like you could be a little reckless, a little dangerous. But I’m willing to take a chance. Thank you for playing along. I’m Alex, by the way.” He didn’t hold out his hand for a shake; that would have ruined the illusion, after all, and Buddy was still glaring in his direction.

“Jack.”

“Well, Jack, at the risk of giving you the impression that I am, in fact, a tease, would you mind if I sat with you awhile? He looked at the seat at the other side of the table. Jack tipped his head toward the empty seat and the man settled across from him. “I don’t trust him not to follow me if I try to leave alone. I thought I could get away by going to the bathroom but he followed me to the door. I didn’t go in because I thought he might take that as an invitation.” Alex’s full body shudder at the thought of the man following him into the bathroom and trying to touch him, well, it made Jack want to get up and punch him on principle. “I’m usually much smarter about strangers hitting on me. I should have done something more as soon as he put his hand on my leg. It was so invasive. And unwelcome.”

“It’s not your fault he’s a creep. I can have the bartender cut him off and ‘encourage’ him to leave right now, if you’d like. They know me pretty well here.” He knew he sounded full of himself but if he was going to play hero, he might has well go all the way.

“Thanks, but no. You were just trying to have a quiet meal and here I’ve dragged you into a big mess.”

“Okay, how about this. We’ll share my food, though I think we might need to order a little more to round out the meal, and we can continue the act for your “non-friend” over there. Then I’ll make sure you get out of here safely.” Jack signaled for Shrewsbury to come to the table and asked for another place setting, before nodding to Alex to place his order. “But first, I need to know how you decided I was safe or that I would play along.”

As it turned out, Alex didn’t really have a reason. He had just looked at Jack and _known_. They ate and engaged in companionable conversation. Jack could not believe his good fortune in deciding to stop for food instead of going directly home. And when they looked up and realized the restaurant had mostly cleared out, Jack happily paid the bill and not so happily escorted Alex to the curb to hail a taxi. If the napkin with Alex’s number burned a hole in his pocket, no one needed to know.

In just a few hours, Jack had gone from being exhausted and longing for his bed, to being full of energy and wondering how long he needed to wait before he could send a text without seeming desperate. He managed to neaten the small kitchen, putting a few stray cups and glasses into the dishwasher and starting the cycle. He cleared out the fridge and took the garbage to the chute, then changed his bed so it would fresh and ready when he finished his shower. As he tipped his head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair, the memories of Alex’s lips pressed against his, the sparkle in his eyes as he spoke, ran like a movie behind his closed eyes.

He dried quickly and changed into clean boxer briefs and pajama pants, before pulling the soft sheets up to his chest and pulling out Alex’s number. He knew he was about to break every rule of first dates – seeming too eager and texting the very same night. And he didn’t care. Because the same feeling that told Alex he was safe told John this could be that start of something good.

So he dialed the phone.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, John is exactly the type of hothead who'd settle an argument with his fists. And I'm okay with that.


End file.
